Chapter 2 - Grandmother
Azula had never known her namesake personally but sometimes she liked to imagine what the Fire Lord's daughter had been like. She liked to imagine them training together, blue fire and lightning arcing through the air as the two would dance in unison. Azula's father had told her they were very alike, both too clever and ambitious for their own good. Azula took that as a compliment.
Absentmindedly Azula flexed her tight fingers, the burned scar tissue pulling at the tender, pink skin painfully. It was cold up here on the rooftops at night but the view was worth it, Azula decided. All of Ba Sing Se was spread out around her, electric lights dappling the shadowed buildings like little stars. Above her, the real stars were still more beautiful with the great River of Spirits stretching across the horizon under the waning horned moon. Somewhere an animal was barking.
Azula had always loved the night and wondered if her grandmother had felt the same way. She figured that she probably had.
Movement in the alley below brought Azula back to herself. A steam-carriage was ambulating up the broad, winding road. The flashing of its headlights swept over Azula's hiding place but in her black leathers she would seem like only another chimney pipe studding the close-packed rooftops or maybe a particularly attractive gargoyle. With a rumble and a fired gasket the carriage shuddered to a stop below Azula's perch and a driver hopped out of the cabin to open the door for his employer.
Mr. Yamaedo, a dandyish Fire-nation dignitary stepped out onto the street and pulled the collar of his fine coat closer against the night wind. Azula noticed especially the small, red silk-wrapped package he kept clutched in his right hand. She grinned in anticipation, her scarred fingers balling into a fist around her short blade.
An hour passed in silent waiting as Mr. Yamaedo retired for the night. She listened to the clinking of his evening teacup and the splashing of him entering and exiting his nightly bath. A soft man, Azula decided. She despised soft men. After the rustling of bedsheets and about forty minutes of quiet snoring, Azula slipped inside through the upper window she'd left open when she'd been impersonating a maid earlier that morning. The starless darkness inside was thick enough to touch but Azula had been trained by the best these past three years. She'd been taught how to navigate by memory and feel, how to know how close she was to the walls by the slight creaking in the floor and the placement of rugs.
The latch of Mr. Yamaedo's bedchamber clicked open quietly as she slunk inside, leaving it ajar in case she had to beat a quick escape. The lock-box in the dresser she'd found earlier that day was still in the same spot. Deftly she picked it open and peered inside. In the faint light through the cotton drapes she could make out the little square package. She smiled.
"Hello?" Came a voice from behind her suddenly. Azula spun around, package in one hand, bare blade in the other to face the apparition. It was a young girl, about her age in a dark slip. A maid?
"How did you get in h-?..!" Azula silenced the girl quick as a striking viper, her blade slipping sideways past her ribs to pierce her heart. The girl's eyes were more startled than accusing as Azula tenderly guided her to the carpeted floor, covering her mouth awkwardly with the handle of her blade.
"Ssshh..." Azula whispered, feeling a flutter of conscience, quickly suppressed. Her Master had shown her how not to regret, how not to feel. 'Does lightning weep when it strikes?' He would say. "No, Master." She would answer.
It was too late now to leave without any trace, Azula regretted. A real pity. As a mercy, Azula thudded her blade into Mr. Yamaedo's chest up to the hilt, severing his heart's aorta as her Master had shown her. He never even blinked in his sleep. She left some hungry Fire near an electrical lamp to clean up the evidence as she slipped out across the rooftops again.
Tyaga let out a confused 'Wumph' as he sniffed the rotted, burned carcass. Chen had been clutching their grey door-tarp so tightly during the fight that she'd actually torn holes in the fabric.
"I... ah..." Yang was the first to discover his voice again, "...thanks." He put a hand out to touch Tyaga's flank, to reassure himself that this was all real. His eyes took in Korra's Water-Tribe clothing and wondered at her use of Firebending.
"Mhm." Korra replied absentmindedly, crouching down to get a closer look but not daring to actually touch. She'd left HQ so quickly she didn't even bring a water canteen she could have used to bring back a specimen.
"What WAS that thing?" Chen asked quietly, untangling her fingers from the fabric. The question was rhetorical, but if an answer were to appear from the blue, she would have been very grateful. She had been reaching out to reassure Yang when she drew back suddenly.
"Aie!" She cried, putting her hand to her mouth, staring with wide eyes at Yang's shoulder.
Startled, Yang twisted around to get a better view, dimly aware of a stinging sensation in the area of his right shoulder blade. A broad slash had been made in the green fabric of his jerkin across his back, revealing a long, shallow cut. He'd probably earned that when he'd overextended one of his kicks and left himself open. He cursed his stupidity.
Korra rose to her feet to take a look at his injury. The cut wasn't deep, but it was already becoming angry and red. "That doesn't look good," she whispered. Speaking at full volume felt inappropriate somehow. "There should still be a few clinics open this late. Here. I'll take you." For the first time in a long time Korra's curiousity was piqued. Here was a mystery that she intended to get to the bottom of.
Just barely on the edge of perception, after the group had left the remains of the abomination behind, little black spirits with barbed mouths like leeches began to crawl all over the carcass. They nibbled on it with barbed leech mouths until only a fine black powder remained.
And so the unlikely quartet made their way to a run-down medical clinic in the lower tier of the city. Tyaga was made to wait outside, but Yang rubbed his snout reassuringly with a sweaty palm. Already Tyaga could scent the fever in his brother and let out a low whine.
After waiting in a cramped room full of coughing elderly and squalling babies for the better part of the night they were admitted into an equally-cramped examination room. Korra thanked the Elements that nobody had recognized her.
The obviously exhausted doctor had Yang remove his shirt to examine the cut. He didn't seem unduly concerned and when he asked what had happened Chen lied that he'd been cut by a metal sliver when their shack collapsed. The doctor sucked his teeth and brought out a fresh bowl of water. Yang wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with his tattered jerkin as the doctor began Waterbending, letting the purity of Water sponge at the cut and the corruption inside it. Yang could almost swear that he could feel something resist.
Throughout the procedure Korra sat quietly, deep in thought. The boy could be no older than sixteen, with black Earth-Kindgom hair and the most bizarre eyes she had ever seen.
"Thank you so much for your help back there." Yang said suddenly to Korra, his grin faltering slightly but his eyes sincere. "I'll find some way to repay you." He announced. Chen seemed to be appraising Korra intently, making her a little uncomfortable.
"No, really, I was just in the area when I saw you..." She didn't finish the sentence for the sake of their cover story. "You don't need to repay me."
Yang twitched a little as the healing Water undid a knot in his Chi. "I'm Yang. A courier under Master Chang Yu... Just remember me if you need anything, okay?" Yang spoke haltingly, the healing causing more pain than it should have, he thought.
"Okay." Korra conceded finally, putting a hand on Yang's knee and smiling. At the touch Korra felt a small surge of energy jump through her fingers. She wondered at the sensation as she stood and left the two in privacy. Korra's life in politics had taught her that sometimes absence could be useful. In this case, she wanted this Yang to remember her only as the helpful stranger. Korra glanced at the massive eel-dog sitting impatiently outside the clinic gate and massaged her still-tingling fingers as she began her walk back to HQ. She could smell Fire on the wind.